A Surprisingly Sane Blog

When I am an old, grumpy octogenarian, I solemnly swear to never drive like the fucktards on the road in Tucson.

No driving 10 mph under the speed limit in the left lane while blocking everyone trying to turn left at the next light.  No casually drifting in and out of lanes without any forewarning.  Absolutely no pulling out into speeding traffic with the belief that everyone will just see me in my old fart mobile and stop to avoid ramming into my stupid ass.

No asshole-ish driving allowed.  I am better than that.  And should I be so senile to think it’s okay to drive when I’m past the ripe old age of being able to drive like an intelligent human being, do me a favor and spill sugar in my gas tank, beat me with my cane, and steal my keys.

Current Mood: Alarmed

James’ interview?  He nailed it.

So well, in fact, that he received an email shortly thereafter informing him that the company would like to fly him out next week for his final set of interviews.

Both of us reverted back to childhood and nearly shit ourselves right there in the kitchen.  No, not kidding.  We were literally holding hands jumping up and down like schoolgirls whooping loudly.  Both of us.  While April stared at us with a smile of utter confusion. Um, guys?  Hello?  Can you stop jumping around like morons and feed me?

He’s flying back to Seattle on Monday, and in the meantime, we’re looking to see if we can get approved for a loan on the house that I’ve become obssessed with.

I’m kind of in a state of shock right now.

Current Mood: Esctatic

I could be grumpy today.  Very grumpy.

But I’m not.  Okay, maybe a little, but not nearly as much as I am warranted to be.

The last few days have been an unending explosion of what-ifs and holy-shit-what-if-this-actually-happens.  Did you figure it out yet?  Yes, I’m a mean, evil secret-keeper (okay, and I admit I taunt everyone with ‘em, too), but hell, I’m just going to blow the reason I have every right to be a bitch today.

It’s because James has been sleeping like he’s fighting off 10 ninja warriors since Friday night.  Like, for real.  Last night I opened my eyes at 3:30 and swore for a second that I saw a Jackie Chan look-alike wearing a red scarf around his head attacking my husband with a samurai sword.  I’m not kidding.  I was going to cheer Jackie Chan on and ask if he’d be willing to perform the hubby’s vasectomy for free right then and there, but then I realized it was my overactive imagination and extreme exhaustion practically causing me to hallucinate.  Yes. That’s how realistic his obnoxious sleep-fighting really was.

But anyway, if tonight is any trend, he will sleep like a log.  On the couch. While I attempt to get more than three hours of broken sleep.

Last night, I finally moved to the couch after the ninja failed to do his job.  And for some stupid reason, I woke up with a muscle in my lower left shoulder blade screaming “Uncle!” and attempting to rip out of my back in a desperate attempt to commit suicide to prove to my husband that it’s owner is too precious and fragile to be forced to sleep on that bloody couch every time I try to inhale, move, or restrain myself from strangling the human responsible for my shitty lack of sleep.

Eh hem… where was I?  Oh yes, I was going to tell you WHY James has morphed into even more of an obnoxious, Asian-warrior-attracting, restless wonder the last few nights.

It’s because he has his second and final phone interview with a company much cooler than fucking Google at precisely 9:30 this morning.

The Sunday before we left for our Seattle trip, a job opening with a reputable and very cutting-edge company caught his eye while he was surfing the web.  He applied, and received a phone call from their (very sweet) HR person the next day to set up an interview.  She sent him a some technical problem that makes my head spin just thinking about for him to provide a sample of his coding and problem-solving skills before the interview.  And then he had the much anticipated 1-hour phone interview.

He waited a week and heard nothing.  We went to Seattle, and he kicked himself in the ass over and over again wondering what the hell he didn’t do right during the interview to not receive a phone call in response even though they knew we were going to be right there that weekend, dammit (can we say… impatient?).

I told him to stop stressing because it was a holiday week and who knows… half the team including the HR person was probably on vacation.

Well, last Friday he finally got the phone call confirming that he was worthy of the final phone interview, which will be happening about 15 minutes from now. And just so you know, James is pacing maniacally around the house while sweat bullets seep from his armpits right this very second.

If this interview goes well, the company will be flying him out to Seattle in the near future.  And if he gets this job, that means we could be moving much quicker than we originally anticipated.

And by the way, the reason I didn’t blog yesterday?  Because I found a house on the MLS site that I. HAVE. TO. BUY.  PERIOD.  And I spent all day spastically prancing around on pins and needles communicating with our Realtor about this house that I HAVE TO HAVE.

So keep your fingers crossed.  The phone is going to ring in 7 minutes, and this needs to go better than “well” if I will have any opportunity to sleep over the next week and my shoulder stands any potential to stop screaming at me like a banshee on bad crack.

I’m in fine form this morning, if you didn’t notice.  Thank God my Prozac is staring at me from the counter. Note To Self:  Take your little blue pills before you scare the internet away.

Current Mood: Alarmed